Now
by Lone.L
Summary: She means everything to him, and to him, everything is beautiful. KaixSaya, sister collection to Forever. Infrequent spoilers, random timeline. NEW! II: The Breath of Kindness
1. I: Nankurunaisa

I've heard cries of "Do Kai too!" Good thing he and Saya had already been bringing me to tears, eh?

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**Nankurunaisa**

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If only a word had been invented to describe a love as thick and complex as this, he would surely use it. But if one does indeed exist, heartless it is, as it escapes him now, even though it's clear that he loves her so dearly.

Words of all kinds have a habit of escaping him, though, when Saya is the subject. If he could find the perfect word to describe her beauty, he would. If he could find an adequate way to sum up the vast reserves of her kindness, he would. If he could possibly know how to put into words that aura of quiet strength and compassionate understanding that envelops her, he sure as hell would.

But the words escape him.

He could find the words to convince Hagi to dissuade her. He could manage to think of a way to explain to her why remembering those they had lost was so important. He knows how to comfort her, how to assuage her fears and doubts, how to talk himself out of what he is getting into by intertwining himself this tightly with her, but for God's sake, he can't eke out the most important words of all, the only ones he really wants her to hear. He badly wants her to know before time runs out.

But, dammit, the words elude him so easily.

He, who has always been so strong, cannot bear to entertain the thought of crying, yet he can do nothing to stop himself as the idea of her sliding through his fingers quickly becomes a concrete reality. She is gradually becoming more limp, bouncing heavier on his back with each step he takes, her voice becoming weaker. Panic overcomes him, and he tries, oh, how he tries, to tell her.

Yet nothing will come.

The only word available, bred from the depths of his heart, as the tears roll down his face, his lip quivering, body shaking, is _nankurunaisa_.

_Nankurunaisa_.

But even that can only do so much as he feels her slip away. He speaks to her now that she sleeps, but the words feel hollow, just like his heart. The grief, the longing, the tears, the love...

He can find no words, because none would do them justice.

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**A/N: **Don't hate me for starting off on such a somber note, please? This is the same as with Forever (whose title I cleverly paralleled) in that the timeline is random and so are the stories. This was just what was with me at the time I decided to start this collection. I gotta tell you, Kai and Saya are almost as powerful to me as Saya and Hagi, but in a different way. Truth be told, though, I always hoped Saya and Kai would be together somehow in the end. I'm sure the idea of Kai becoming Saya's chevalier has been used, but it jumps out at me, and seems so plausible, and so much can come from it that I want to start a multichapter fic on it. Maybe sometime soon. 

Take a second to review this if you can, and I hope you enjoyed reading. I will update this regularly.

**LL**


	2. II: The Breath of Kindness

This collection needs some love too, no joke. Hopefully this will be enough to make up for it, for now.

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**And Then With the Breath of Kindness Blow the Rest Away**

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Just holding it in his hands feels so good. It's all the things he's lacked, the release he's needed, and it brings him comfort he otherwise can't find but can't bear to live without.

Is that...wrong?

No. He feels oddly apathetic, so hurt and lost as to be at peace. The days are easy, boring. They pass, just as time does for him, and he moves on, breathing, living, acting, thinking of nothing and therefore tormented by even less. It's calm.

That's what's wrong.

When he runs his hands along the barrel, down the handle, wrapping it tightly, finding the spot, it feels tense; it feels bad; and that feels good. He needs to know that it's not okay, that everything's not alright, that there's something to run to—and something to run away from. He stops breathing, and so does the world around him.

It's silent, the atmosphere acute, sharp, focused.

...

He pulls the trigger, and the recoil is the only thing more satisfying than the boom.

Without sympathy, he casts a blank gaze at the line of targets before him, standing quietly in the old shed. Huffing, he digs his feet where he stands, embedding them in thin hay, bringing the gun up into his sights, his shoulders square. They have no faces, and that only fuels his passion.

He shuts one eye; he recalls her face, so soft and friendly. It was always smiling. He misses it, but he knows—he knows its out there somewhere, waiting for him, no matter what the rest of them say. He needs to see that face every day again; he needs to be able to smell her, hear her voice, touch her again. But it's taking too damn long. And he hates that he feels okay with it.

Gritting his teeth, he aims at the forehead of the expressionless target and squeezes, blazing a hole through it.

Most of all, he recalls her kindness, and the way her breath used to feel on him when they would speak to each other on the beach late at night. It would always settle him, whatever his problems were. The sum of his stress, the rest of his worries were just blown away.

Needing that, he waits for her to return to him. It's too easy, though. He needs that edge, that worry.

So he reloads and cocks it, moving to the next. He needs something to shoot at, to be angry, to be empty and longing. He's just doing himself the favor he needs.

It's his own breath of kindness, and it'll keep him preoccupied while he waits for hers, the one true, to be upon him again.

With ruthless efficiency, he nails the next target between the eyes; then he steps forward.

And then he blows the rest away.

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**A/N: **Wow, that was awesome. No lie, I felt good just writing that. I know I used the word edge in the story itself, but I really feel like there was an edge to this short unlike many I've done recently. I know it sounds emo and stuff, but really he just needs to remember that he has a purpose, so that he doesn't get complacent. That's the main message of the piece, besides the fact that he feels dulled by the wait while he feels like he should be missing her and waiting for her to return. So to help wrap that up, in case you didn't infer (I'm not saying that would have been easy), this takes place between part one and part two, after she and Hagi disappear on the ship. I was imagining that same old barn-shack he was practicing his aim with the coin in.

Hope you enjoyed, leave a review, a prompt, a comment, anything. All that jazz.

**LL**


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